Warm hands pushed up my tank top as the sun rose. Next came hot kisses down my back, sending a shiver up my spine. My skin came to immediate goose-pimpled attention, despite the truly horrible time of day.

"Jen, baby, roll over." Lisa whispered in my ear.

"What time is it?"

We'd all gone downstairs to the recording studio after dinner for a 'quick look'. At midnight Pam had bailed, saying Tyler could call her when they were done. No one anticipated that being anytime soon, since they'd opened a bottle of bourbon. I'd stretched out on the big couch down there while Lisa and Tyler messed around, moving between the control room and the studio. I'd wanted to be close to Lisa, to listen to her play guitar and sing snippets of songs. She had a beautiful voice. What she could do with a six string in her hands blew my mind. Her eyes would take on this far away look and she was gone. It was like nothing else existed. Sometimes, I actually felt a little lonely, lying there watching her. Then the song would end and she'd shake her head, stretch her fingers, returning to earth. Her gaze would find me and she'd smile. She was back.

At some stage I'd dozed off. How I'd gotten up to bed I had no idea. Lisa must have carried me. One thing was certain: I could smell booze.

"It's almost five in the morning," she said. "Roll over."

"Tired," I mumbled, staying right where I was.

The mattress shifted as she straddled my hips and put an arm either side of my head, bending down over me, covering me.

"Guess what?" she asked.

"What?"

Gently she pushed my hair back off my face. Then she licked my ear. I squirmed, ticklish.

"I wrote two songs," she said, her voice a little slurred, soft around the edges.

"Mmm." I smiled without opening my eyes. Hopefully she'd take that as being supportive. I couldn't manage much more on less than four hours' sleep. I simply wasn't wired that way. "That's nice."

"No, you don't understand. I haven't written anything in over two years. This is fucking amazing." She nuzzled my neck. "And they're about you."

"Your songs?" I asked, stunned. And still dazed. "Really?"

"Yeah, I just …" She breathed deep and nipped my shoulder, making my eyes pop open.

"Hey!"

She leaned over so I could see her face, her dark hair hanging down. "There you are. So, I think of you and suddenly I have something to say. I haven't had anything I wanted to say in a long time. I didn't give a fuck. It was all just more of the same. But you changed things. You fixed me."

"Lisa, I'm glad you got your mojo back, but you're incredibly talented. You were never broken. Maybe you just needed some time off."

"No." From upside down, she frowned at me. "Roll over. I can't talk to you like this." I hesitated and she slapped my butt. The non-tattooed cheek, lucky for her. "Come on, baby."

"Watch it with the biting and spanking, buddy."

"So move already," she growled.

"Okay. Okay."

She climbed off me onto the other side of the mammoth mattress and I sat, drawing my knees up to my chest. The woman staring back at me with only a pair of jeans on and sports bra. How the hell did she keep losing her shirt? The sight of her chest brought me to the dribble point. The jeans pushed me right over. No one wore jeans like Lisa. And having caught a glimpse of her without them only made it worse. My imagination went into some sort of sexual berserker rage. The pictures that filled my head … I have no idea where they all came from. The images were surprisingly raw and detailed. I was quite certain I wasn't flexible enough to achieve some of them.

All of the air left the room. Truth was, I wanted her. All of her. The good and the bad and the bits in between. I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anything before in my life.

But not when she'd been drinking. We'd already been there, made that mistake. I didn't know quite what was going on between us, but I didn't want to mess it up.

So, right. No sex. Bad.

I had to stop looking at her. So I took a deep breath and studied my knees. My bare knees. I'd gone to sleep wearing jeans. Now I had only panties and my tank top on. My bra had also mysteriously disappeared. "What happened to the rest of my clothes?"

"They left," she said, face serious.

"You took them?"

She shrugged. "You wouldn't have been comfortable sleeping in them."

"How on earth did you manage to get my bra off without waking me?"

She gave me a sly smile. "I didn't do anything else. I swear. I just … removed it for safety reasons. Underwire is dangerous."

"Riiiight."

"I didn't even look."

I narrowed my eyes on her.

"That's a lie," she admitted, rolling her shoulders. "I had to look. But we are still married, so looking is okay."

"It is, huh?" It was pretty much impossible to be mad at her when she looked at me like that. My foolish girl parts got giddy.

No. Sex.

"What are you doing up that end of the bed? That's not going to work," she said, totally unaware of my wakening hormones and distress at same.

Faster than I'd have thought possible given the amount of booze on her breath, she grabbed my feet and dragged me down the bed. My back hit the mattress and my head bounced off the pillow. Lisa sprawled out on top of me before I could attempt any more evasive maneuvers. Her weight pressed me into the mattress in the best possible way. Saying no under these conditions was a big ask.

"I don't think we should have sex now," I blurted out.

The side of her mouth kicked up. "Relax. There's no way we're fucking right now."

"No?" Damn it, I actually whined. My patheticness knew no end.

"No. When we do it the first time we'll both be stone cold sober. Trust me on that. I'm not waking up in the morning again to find you're freaking out because you don't remember or you've changed your mind or something. I'm done being the asshole here."

"I never thought you were an asshole, Lisa." Or at least, not exactly. A jerk maybe, and definitely a bra thief, but not an asshole.

"No?"

"No."

"Not even in Vegas when I started swearing at you and slamming doors?" Her fingers slid into my hair, rubbing at my scalp. Impossible not to push into her touch like a happy kitty. She had magic hands. She even made mornings bearable. Though five a.m. was pushing it.

"That wasn't a good morning for either of us," I said.

"How about in LA with that girl hanging off me?"

"You planned that?"

She shut one eye and looked down at me. "Maybe I needed some armor against you."

I didn't know what to say. At first. "It's none of my business who you have hanging off you."

Her smile was one of immense self-satisfaction. "You were jealous."

"Do we have to do this right now?" I pushed against her body, getting nowhere. "Lisa?"

"Can't own up to it, can you?"

I didn't reply.

"Hey, I couldn't bring myself to touch her. Not with you there."

"You didn't?" I calmed down a lot at that statement. My heart palpitations eased. "I wondered what happened. You came back so fast."

She grunted, got closer. "Seeing you with Jimmy …"

"Nothing was going on. I swear."

"No, I know. I'm sorry about that. I was out of line."

My pushing hands turned to petting. Funny that. They slid over her shoulders, around her neck to fiddle with her hair. I just wanted to feel the heat of her skin and keep her near. She made for an emotional landslide, turning me from sleep deprived and cranky to adoring in under eight seconds. "It's great that you wrote some songs."

"Mm. How about when I left you with Adrian and the lawyers? Were you mad at me then?"

I huffed out a breath. "Fine. I might admit to being a bit upset about that."

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "When I got back and they told me what had happened, that you'd taken off with Jack, I lost it. Trashed my favorite guitar, used it to take apart Jack's kit. Still can't believe I did that. I was just so fucking angry and jealous and mad at myself."

I could feel my face scrunch up in disbelief. "You did?"

"Yeah." Her eyes were stark, wide. "I did."

"Why are you telling me this now, Lisa?"

"I don't want you hearing it from someone else." She swallowed, making the line of her throat move. "Listen, I'm not like that, Jen. It won't happen again, I promise. I'm just not used to this. You get to me. This whole situation does. I dunno, I'm fucking rambling. Do you understand?"

Later, she mightn't even remember any of this. But right now, she looked so sincere. My heart hurt for her. I looked into her bloodshot eyes and smiled. "I think so. It definitely won't happen again?"

"No. I swear." The relief in her voice was palpable. "We're okay?"

"Yes. Are you going to play the songs for me later?" I asked. "I'd love to hear them."

"They're not done yet. When they're done, I will. I want them perfect for you."

"Okay," I said. She'd written songs about me. How incredible, unless they were the uncomplimentary kind, in which case we needed to talk. "They're not about how much I annoy you sometimes, are they?"

She see-sawed her hand in the air. "A little. In a good way though."

"What?" I cried.

"Trust me."

"Do you actually state what a pain in the ass I am in these songs?"

"Not those words exactly. No." She chuckled, her good humor returned. "You don't want me to lie and say everything's always fucking unicorns and rainbows, do you?"

"Maybe. Yes. People are going to know these are about me. I have a reputation as a constant delight to protect."

She groaned. "Jennie, look at me."

I did so.

"You are a constant fucking delight. I don't think anyone could ever doubt that."

"You're awful pretty when you lie."

"Am I now? They're love songs, baby. Love isn't always smooth or straightforward. It can be messy and painful," she said. "Doesn't mean it isn't still the most incredible thing that can ever happen to you. Doesn't mean I'm not crazy about you."

"You are?" I asked, my voice tight with emotion.

"Of course I am."

"I'm crazy about you too. You're beautiful, inside and out, Lisa Manoban."

She lay her forehead against mine, closing her eyes for a moment. "You're so fucking sweet. But, you know, I like that you can bite too. Like you did in Vegas with those assholes. I like that you cared, standing up for that girl. I even kind of like it when you piss me off. Not all the time though. Shit. I'm rambling again …"

"It's okay," I whispered. "I like you rambling."

"So you're not angry at me for losing my temper?"

"No, Lisa. I'm not angry at you."

Without another word she crawled off me and lay at my side. She pulled me into her arms, arranging an arm beneath me and another over my hip. "Jen?"

"Hmm?"

"Take your shirt off. I wanna be skin to skin," she said. "Please? Nothing more, I promise."

"Okay." I sat up and pulled the tank top off over my head, then snuggled back down against her. Topless had a lot going for it. She tucked me in beneath her chin and the feel of her warm chest was perfect, thrilling and calming all at once. Every inch of my skin seemed alive with sensation. But being like this with her soothed the savage storm within or something. It never occurred to me to worry about my belly or hips or any of that crap.

Never mind the lingering scent of booze on her skin, I just wanted to be close to her.

"I like sleeping with you," she said, her hand stroking over my back. "Didn't think I'd be able to sleep with someone else in the bed, but with you it's okay."

"You've never slept with anyone before?"

"Not in a long time. I need my space." Her fingers toyed with the band on my boyleg shorts, making me squirm.

"Huh."

"This with you is torture, but it's good torture."

Everything fell quiet for a few minutes and I thought she might have fallen asleep. But she hadn't. "Talk to me, I like hearing your voice."

"Alright. I had a nice time with Pam, she's lovely."

"Yeah, she is." Her fingers trailed up and down along my spine. "They're good people."

"It was really kind of them to bring us dinner." I didn't know what to say. I wasn't ready to confess I'd been thinking about what she'd said about my becoming an architect. That I'd started questioning the almighty plan. Saying I was scared I'd stuff up and somehow ruin things between us didn't seem smart either. Maybe the fates would be listening and screw me over first chance they got. God, I hoped not. So instead I chose to talk trivial. "I love how you can hear the ocean here."

"Mm," she hummed her agreement. "Baby, I don't want to sign those papers on Monday."

I held perfectly still, my heart pounding. "You don't?"

"No." Her hand crept up, fingers stroking below my breast, tracing the line of my rib cage. I had to remind myself to breathe. But she didn't even seem to be aware she did it, like she was just doodling on my skin the same way you would on paper. Her arms tightened around me. "There's no reason it can't wait. We could spend some time together, see how things went."

Hope rushed through me, hot and thrilling. "Lisa, are you serious about this?"

"Yeah, I am." She sighed. "I know I've been drinking. But I've been thinking it over. I don't … shit, I didn't even like having you out of my sight the last few hours, but you looked like you needed to sleep. I don't want us to sign those papers."

I squeezed my eyes tight and sent up a silent prayer. "Then we won't."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

She pulled me in tight against her. "Okay. Okay, that's good."

"We're going to be fine," I sighed happily. The relief made me weak. If I hadn't been lying down I'd have landed on the floor.

Suddenly she sniffed at her shoulder and underarms. "Shit, I stink of bourbon. I'm going to have a shower." She gave me a quick kiss and rolled out of the bed. "Kick me out of bed next time I try to come in smelling like this. Don't let me cuddle up to you."

I loved that she was talking about our being together like it would be an everyday thing. I loved it so much, I didn't even care how bad she smelled.

True love.